Aaron Fitzwalters, District 2 [done]
Jul 31, 2012 2:20:29 GMT -5
Post by cyrus on Jul 31, 2012 2:20:29 GMT -5
::Aaron Fitzwalters::
::16::
::District 2::War, children, it's just a shot away…
It's just a shot away…
Rape, murder!
It's just a shot away…
It's just a shot away!
There are some that will tell you someone born out of hate will wind up ugly. Maybe not so much on his outside, but dig a little deeper, and you’ll find it. Sure, there’s Aaron’s brown hair, muddy and looking discontented from the feuding, nothing like the red plumage of his kin. It is plain and unremarkable—it doesn’t make him unhandsome, but truly isn’t as capitol-esque as the flaming red hair of the rest of his brothers and sisters. His eyes are the same color of dead leaves after a rainstorm: brown and dirty. His stare is all the more penetrating for someone so plain. For one that’s been handed so much in life he could be better looking, but he that wasn't what nature intended.
He took to training as a career like none other—long hours in the mornings, and then again in the evenings to shore up any doubt as to what this boy was truly about. A deep, burning fire to bend himself until breaking, that was what could be found inside of Aaron. Ever since he could walk, from the moment he pulled a dagger out of the sheath on his father’s hip, Aaron has been drawn to the darkness. There’s something irresistible about the chance to let the world know that he was the ultimate fighter, the one that should be both revered and feared for his skill. And so he would push his body to its limits, stopping at nothing, not even injury, when it came to training. There were times when his hands bled from the blisters, or his ankles ached from twists that came from running so many, many miles. But he stopped at nothing to reach his physical peak.
It was easy for a boy of means to think of nothing else. His body packed on muscle as he pressed through the pain. His lusting after becoming the best of the best—modeling himself after strong men that he envisioned the most gruesome fighters, able to snap necks in their hands—Aaron sought out trainers that would let him be the same. Curiously, though he grew horizontally, his body never quite caught up vertically. Aaron peaked at five foot, six inches, and at sixteen, has little time left before they can call off the search for another growth spurt. It was a blow to his confidence, assuredly, for a boy with such a desire to be the best physically that he would be beset with a lack of verticality. No, some would even utter the moniker shrimp when they saw him, the musclebound boy that often had to look upward at his opponents.
This only pushed him harder in his desire to break them down.
As a baby he was a horrid, crying creature that seemed to never be satisfied. As the boy grew he favored harassing animals and burning ants with a magnifying glass to playing pretend games with his brothers and sisters. There was a strangeness to him that never worked itself out, whether it was in his lack of devotion from his parents or the weakness that he continuously claimed in his siblings. He was a wretched child, always wanting to be a part of things and yet never wanting things not in his way. An so he grew into a teen, and found even more struggle with the impending hormones and confusing view of the world.
Now he finds comfort in plotting and scheming with his sister, Daisy, in new ways that they can damage the Johnson clan. The Johnsons have a longstanding feud with the Fitzwalters, one that dates back a generation. He does not enjoy the company of most boys his age, including those of his own family. He is constantly fighting with Austin over little things, if only for the sake of wielding his considerable strength in a way that won’t be publically discouraged. He takes pleasure in harassing his younger brother and making him miserable because it helps him feel less so. Not that Aaron would ever admit it, but he often finds much of his time dampened by an inexplicable weight on his chest. And so he finds strength in the anger that he can express. By expressing such anger, he can lift the heaviness momentarily, and also prove that he is not someone to be trifled with.
Some might whisper that his heart has turned completely black, and that’s there’s nothing left there, save for the thumping required for him to keep going. Peel back the many, many layers, and one might just find that Aaron Fitzwalters wants to talk—that he wants to scream and be heard, if only he could be loud enough. But he shoves this deep down, hidden from view, because he doesn’t want to be seen as weak. He doesn’t want to have to explain the flashes of death and the desire to kill that run through his brain from time to time. Because it is easier for a warrior to be stoic rather than feel anything at all, he very rarely will express just what it is that he’s feeling. Some might say if he doesn’t find someone to talk to soon, this humanity might disappear completely from the boy. But he’ll still be there, buried underneath all of that hate and rage.
There are a few happy moments in Aaron’s life. The time when he was three year’s old, and his father told him that he was his favorite. Surely, he meant it, and it wasn’t just the filial love that all parents express toward their children? Or the time that he was victorious in his match against an older boy when it came to sparring, and so many people had doubted him. He had managed to overcome, he had been victory, and all of them had been put on notice. Or the singular night that he had ever thought of what it must feel like to be in love—when he had just turned twelve—and wanted to know what it was like to kiss someone. But these were all of course stupid, childish memories, and could be discarded as such.
No, the standoff between families has warped Aaron that makes him particularly rigid and remembering of past slights. He and his sister Daisy seem to be the most ardent supports of destroying the Johnson clan, and he is keen on writing down each and every misdeed that the group has ever done. Granted, these often include times when the Fitzwalters have pressured and provoked them, but Aaron would never forget anything that they did to harm his family. It gives him strength, the continued feud between the two families. For by divining his place in all of it and affirming himself as a protector, he is able to decide between what is right and what is wrong in this world.
Without such a feud, Aaron might not understand his world at all. For his brothers and sisters, as much as they might have annoyed him, could only do wrong if they sided with the Johnsons. It was the reason that he has begun to fight with Austin so much. The boy clearly sides with one of the Johnson, and as such much be treated as a traitor. And while he cannot rightly prove such things, he could do his best to make sure that Austin feels as loathsome as possible about it. If the moment ever came, Aaron would not hesitate to act in a way to protect his family from embarrassment or harm. He would eliminate everyone that went against the code—the idea that the Johnson clan was evil to be extinguished—and he would feel no shame about doing so.
codeword: odair
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